The Rurouni Years
by hhrpryd42
Summary: The Bakumatsu has just ended, and the Hitokiri Battousai has nowhere to go. What DID he do during those ten rurouni years? And how did the cold-blooded hitokiri turn into the bumbling rurouni we know today?
1. Chapter 1 Departure

The Rurouni Years

A/N: Another pitiful entry into the RuroKen fandom…hopefully I'll do better this time. Newayz, the basic idea is that it is a little after the Bakumatsu ended. Watsuki-sama never told us what happens to Kenshin during his ten rurouni years.

So now the rabid plot bunnies (And I, their evil tool) will fantasize on what Kenshin did in those ten years!

Have fun!

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The Rurouni Years

Chapter One: Departure

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He sat in his room at the inn, things all packed up beside him. The room was silent save his even breathing, the twilight casting shadows on the worn tatami floor. His eyes were shut, brows relaxed for the first time in ten years.

The sound of footsteps in the hall outside disturbed the tranquility. The door opened to reveal his commissioner, Kogoro Katsura.

"Himura-san."

Kenshin Himura, formerly the feared Hitokiri Battousai, got to his feet, cinching his sword back onto his hakama. He shouldered his pack and without looking back into what had formerly been his peace room, followed Kogoro out to the street.

They walked silently, one uncomfortable in permeating silence and one that lived in it. Finally it was too much for Kogoro to bear.

"Himura-san…"

Kenshin never took his eyes off the path in front of him.

"Hai."

Kogoro looked up at the bright-blue sky overhead, taking a breath of the fresh morning air.

"Do you enjoy this peace?"

"Hai, Kogoro-sama."

Kogoro turned and smiled at his charge.

"Doesn't it feel good, knowing that you had a hand in bringing about this peace?"

Kenshin stopped in his tracks, eyes shadowed by a frame of red hair.

"Kogoro-sama…"

His eyes locked with those of his master.

"What we did to bring about this celebrated peace…what we did in the name of the emperor…is that to be celebrated?"

The boy's voice took on a more dangerous tone.

"Is her death to be celebrated in the name of peace?"

Kogoro looked at his charge with a look of shock. This was perhaps the largest amount of conversation he had gotten out of Himura-san since her death.

It had agonized Kenshin so much that her name was not to be spoken in his presence. His emotional state was, and had been, on the precipice of disaster after the incident.

"G-gomen, Himura-san, I didn't-didn't mean-"

The boy's response was to return his never-faltering gaze to the path before him and walk on.

Kogoro watched him go with a kind of resigning look on his face. He shook his head, looking down at his feet.

'Himura-san…what we have done to you…you have lost the years of your childhood…'

He closed his eyes.

'In the name of peace…'

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A short while later a very subdued Kogoro and an indifferent Kenshin stepped into an inn on the outskirts of Kyoto. They were the last of the Ishinshishi to arrive at the point of departure for the final meeting of the Emperor's group.

"Ah! Kogoro-san! Battousai-san!" bellowed one of the many important officials at the meeting. "Ohayo!"

Kogoro turned and gave a half-wave to the man, taking Kenshin by the shoulder and leading him into one of the rooms at the inn.

Inside, Takamori Saigo was waiting. He smiled and motioned for Kenshin to sit on a mat opposite to him.

"Himura-san, do have some tea." He poured some into a cup. "You don't look well at all! Now that the Bakumatsu is finally over with, you need to buck up a bit!"

"Arigato, Takamori-sama." Kenshin took the cup, but didn't drink.

"Well," sighed Takamori after draining his cup, "now it's down to business!"

He took a small black envelope out of his pack and handed it to Kenshin, but the boy didn't take it.

"I thought the Bakumatsu, and therefore my work as a hitokiri, was over."

Takamori looked questioningly at the boy. "Yes, Himura-san, but this is your pay! This envelope contains all the money you earned doing your hitokiri work!"

Kenshin stood up, reshouldering his pack. He turned from a stunned Takamori to the door.

"Is this what Kogoro-sama brought me here for?"

"Well, yes, of course!" replied a stupefied Takamori.

"What I did…the work I did deserves no compensation."

With that, Kenshin slid open the door and was about to leave, but Takamori stopped him.

"Wait, Himura-san!"

The boy stopped.

"What will you do now? What do you plan to do, now that the Bakumatsu is over, and our work complete?"

The room was silent for a minute. Then Kenshin turned and looked at Takamori with his penetrating stare.

"What is there left for a swordsman to do, now that his work is done, but to be a rurouni and spend his life repenting for those he has slain?"

With those parting words, Kenshin walked out of the inn and back into Kyoto. He had an appointment with a certain sword-maker by the name of Shakku Arai.

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A/N: Cold, hard Battousai-boy…- Remember Saigo, he's very important. I will try to stick to historical accuracy in this fic.

Ja ne,

Misao7


	2. Chapter 2 Sakabatou

The Rurouni Years

Chapter 2: Sakabatou

A/N: Wow! I updated within the week! I guess this is what happens when you get stuck on a new fic…

Reader responses for the few that did review:

Twilightstarkitsune: Tsk, tsk, kitsune-san! Nobuhiro Watsuki-sama's work is so famous it is translated into all sorts of languages!

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The Rurouni Years

Chapter 2: Sakabatou

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---------INT: The home of Shakku Arai---------

Shakku Arai was just finishing the sword when he came up the path.

A boy who looked no more than sixteen, his red-orange hair hid his eyes and set him apart from anyone else. His gi was blue and his wrist-guards navy, the swords on his hakama clinking together. His sandals scraped the path below his feet in an endless 'shuff, shuff'. But what truly caused Shakku Arai to look up was the cross-shaped scar on the boy's left cheek.

He knew without a hint of doubt that this was Himura Kenshin. Himura Kenshin, the legendary Hitokiri Battousai. Himura Kenshin, student of his good friend Hiko Seijuro, and a good friend himself.

Arai had last seen the boy when he was twelve. Kenshin had come to him for 'a sword with a blade so sharp it cuts time itself with ease'. Even with the knowledge that the sword would be used as a hitokiri's tool, Arai had made it extra-sharp out of respect for the boy.

'Hard to believe that three years have passed,' Arai thought to himself as Kenshin came up the path. 'He is no longer the boy he was…'

Indeed, the word 'boy' would no longer fit Himura Kenshin. He was a young man now, in body and soul. Old enough to carry his own burdens and understand the truth of the world.

Arai took the sword he had been working on and brushed a few scrapings off. He took the sheath he had made the day before and sheathed the new sword. A fine sword, this one was. Not a hitokiri's blade, but one fit for a rurouni.

"Ohayo, Shakku-sama."

Kenshin stepped into the sword-maker's yard. He looked up at the man, and then at the sword being offered to him.

"To my specifications?" the young man asked.

Arai smiled his warm smile. "Yes. Down to the very thickness of the blade!"

"Arigato." Kenshin turned to the path. "I will be leaving Kyoto this afternoon. Sayonara, Shakku-sama. Give my regards to Hiko-sensei." The young man started walking down the path.

Arai could feel the anger at being dismissed so boiling up in him. "Kenshin-kun!" he shouted.

Kenshin stopped.

"I made it to all your specifications, Kenshin no Battousai. All but one."

Kenshin turned to meet the man's steady gaze. "Which was?" he prompted, voice laced with cold fury.

Arai did not back down from the young man's tone of voice. He had known Kenshin from when he was still a child. Even with the Hitokiri tone in his voice, he could not scare Shakku Arai.

"You are no longer a hitokiri, Kenshin-kun." The bold sword-maker took a step forward. "You are now a rurouni."

Arai took the sword from Kenshin's grasp and unsheathed it. He brought it up to the young man's face and traced the front edge with his bare finger, all the way to the tip.

Kenshin's eyes widened. "You-"

"Yes." Arai winked at the boy.

Kenshin seized the sword by the hilt and turned it over, staring intently at the edge there. He stared at the impossibly sharp edge, disbelief etched in his face for the first time in three years.

"A sakabatou." He breathed. "It's a reverse-blade sword."

Arai chuckled at the expression on Kenshin's face. "Good to see you showing some emotion, Kenshin-kun."

"Why?" Kenshin asked. "What good will a blade with a dull front edge do for I, a swordsman of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu?"

"Kenshin-kun, a rurouni does not need a killing blade." Arai reached over and took Kenshin's two other swords off his hakama belt. "But rather, a blade such as this."

Tossing Kenshin's other two swords to the side, he placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "A sakabatou will not kill with each slash. It will injure, surely, but it will not kill. Therefore, it is the perfect blade for a rurouni wishing to protect others."

"But I don't know how to use it!" there was a hint of exasperation in Kenshin's voice.

"You can still use Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, Kenshin-kun." Arai inwardly chuckled at the young man's display of emotion. "Just be aware that your Battou-jutsu will be slowed a bit."

Kenshin's face relaxed. He took the sheath of his new sword and placed it on its rightful place on his hakama belt, then sheathed his new sword with a flourish.

"Arigato, Shakku-sama." Kenshin bent down and took up his other two swords, but Arai put a hand out to stop him.

"Kenshin-kun, you no longer have a need for a killing blade! If you ever truly need one, just flip the blade on your sakabatou." Arai rolled his eyes. "Heaven forbid you should ever need it…"

Kenshin sighed and gave a slight farewell pat to his swords. "Well, Shakku-sama, I will be leaving Kyoto as soon as I tie up the rest of my affairs here."

He glanced at the mountain just south from his standpoint. "Give my regards to Hiko-sensei, would you?"

Arai smiled. "Of course."

Kenshin turned to the path before him. "Sayonara, Shakku-sama. You have my gratitude."

"Sayonara, Kenshin-kun. Good luck on your travels."

Kenshin turned and gave a half-bow to his friend, then walked down the path back to downtown Kyoto.

Shakku Arai watched him till he was out of sight. Then he turned and slid open the sliding door that led to the main room in his house.

Inside, a tall figure in a white cloak with a high red collar stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and long black hair shadowing his eyes.

Arai chuckled as the figure sipped from a small, wide-rimmed cup of sake.

Hiko Seijuro closed his eyes and gave an arrogant little snort.

"Baka apprentice."

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Kenshin left Shakku Arai's home with some uneasy thoughts at hand. He had shown much too much emotion. The hitokiri in him winced at the surprise he had allow to slip through.

'A hitokiri cannot show emotion, lest the emotion overtake his senses and blind him in battle.' He thought to himself. 'But I am no longer a hitokiri! I am but a rurouni. A wandering swordsman.'

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he was not watching where he was going. So much so that he bumped into a young lady without realizing it.

The girl was knocked aside and landed hard on her back with an "Oww!" of pain. Kenshin himself stumbled a little, but reiterated himself soon enough to help the girl up.

Scowling, she dusted off her kimono and turned to face Kenshin. She poked a finger at his chest and glared at him, anger evident on her face. "Watch where you're going, mister! Why, if I hadn't hurt my arm in the shop yesterday I'd give you-ow!"

The fiery-spirited girl clutched at her left arm, wincing in pain. She sat down on a nearby stool and rolled up her sleeve to reveal a sloppily applied bandage with a fair bit of blood seeping through.

"Needs changing…" she muttered.

Kenshin kneeled down and examined the wound carefully, noting the sloppy bandage. However, the bandage was placed just so that the wound itself was no visible.

'Crude but effective,' Kenshin thought to himself.

"Excuse me, miss, but may I take a look at that wound?" he asked, pointing at her arm.

'Just a bit of kindness,' he thought to himself, 'she needs attention…'

The girl eyed him suspiciously. "I can take care of myself." She growled begrudgingly.

"I know that, but it is showing signs of infection…" Kenshin's voice faded away as he examined the wound some more.

The girl eyed him a bit more, and for a moment Kenshin thought she'd reject the offer. But then she sighed and looked to the side, muttering her consent.

"Arigato, de gozaru yo." Kenshin expertly took her arm and peeled off the bandage, tossing it into a nearby disposal bag.

The girl winced at the sudden rush of pain as the wind hit her still rather fresh cut. Kenshin glanced up at her and lessened his grip on her arm.

After about five minutes' worth of careful examination, Kenshin called for a towel from the vendor behind them. He rested the girl's arm on the towel and reached inside his hakama, pulling out a roll of bandages and some other medical supplies.

"Gomen, this will sting a bit," he warned as he applied some herbs and wrapped the bandage neatly on her arm.

The girl winced but didn't say a word, instead preferring to glare at any staring passersby.

Kenshin took his new sakabatou out of its sheath and flipped the blade. Carefully, he cut the bandage at the appropriate place and tied the two ends together.

Seeing that he was done, the girl pulled her arm away, examining her bandage a little. She rolled her kimono sleeve back down and looked away, blushing furiously.

"Arigato." She muttered.

His task done, Kenshin stood back up and patted her on the shoulder. "You should get that to a doctor. It is not a serious wound, but it will offer slight inconveniency."

With that, Kenshin turned and started out into the crowd, but a tug on his sleeve stopped him.

"Uh…can you at least tell me your name?" the girl was blushing furiously, but her face was set in a mask of defiance and she looked at him with every bit of it.

"Himura. Himura Kenshin." Kenshin replied. "A rurouni swordsman."

"Himura-san." The girl said. "Himura-san…you are a rurouni?" she looked quite surprised at this new bit of information. 'This man, a rurouni?'

Kenshin nodded mutely. 'Is it that surprising?'

"Then you must have no place to stay!" the surprise vanished from her face, replaced by a look of steely determination. "C'mon. Stay at my place for a while. It'll be my payment for your bandage."

Kenshin hurriedly put a hand up. "No, no, I don't-"

"Yes you do. Now c'mon." the girl insisted.

With that, the girl stood up and dragged a protesting Kenshin through the crowd.

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A short walk later, Kenshin and the girl stepped into the yard of the Sasaki Satsusshin Ken-jutsu Dojo. The girl released her hold on Kenshin's wrist and muttered a quick "Stay here" before running into the house.

Kenshin looked around the spacious yard in wonder. He had never been in a dojo, having trained on a mountain. This place looked different from the yards of the homes of the men he had slain as Battousai. It was more spacious, with less shrubbery and more room.

'Makes sense,' he thought, 'as this is a ken-jutsu dojo. There has to be more room to practice in.'

Just then, the girl came running back out with a tall, dark-haired young man. The young man looked to be about 18 or 20 years old, with an open, pleasant look on his face.

"Satsuya!" the girl said, coming to a stop between Satsuya and Kenshin. "This is Himura Kenshin. Kenshin-san bandaged my arm when the bandage came loose."

Kenshin stepped forward. "Ohayo, Satsuya-sama."

Satsuya laughed. "Please, no keigo! I am just about the same age as you are. And you are a swordsmen as well, are you not?"

"Hai. I am." Kenshin stoically replied, choosing not to comment on his age.

"Well, thank you for taking care of Midori. Now come in!" invited Satsuya in his carefree way.

Kenshin was in a predicament. An all-too-friendly, sunshiny, I-am-a-happy-swordsman boy was inviting a former hitokiri into his house, which also served as a ken-jutsu dojo for some old style that he'd never heard of.

His senses were screaming at him. But what could he do? These people would hate him forever if he denied their offer.

So the legendary Hitokiri Battousai allowed himself to be dragged into the house to listen to Midori and Satsuya talk for an eternity. He was quite alarmed to find he actually enjoyed it. Before he knew it, he was sleeping in a warm, comfortable room, the sounds of the dojo about him.

Most alarmingly, he found he liked it here.

---------END OF CHAPTER---------

A/N: Kenshin's got his sakaba, and he's settling into a surrogate home…some major changes to his persona in this chapter, plus he's showing compassion for the first time in ten years. He's nineteen, looks about fifteen…I calculated his age based on the time he married Tomoe and the time this happens (1864 and 1868, fifteen at the time he married Tomoe.)

Have fun. Thanks for reading.

-Misao7


	3. Chapter 3 SHINSENGUMI!

The Rurouni Years

Chapter 3: SHINSENGUMI!!!

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---------INT: A tavern on the other side of Kyoto---------

At first glance, he looked like any other of the men at the Kiei Tavern. An inky black gi, a fading white hakama. Raven-black hair, shadowed eyes. Rough, calloused hands.

But then you backed up a bit, back to the eyes, and you got a good look at them, and you realized that he was not normal. This man was blind. His eyes were unfocused, and he had a bamboo walking pole on the seat beside him.

What was a blind man doing in a rough place like the Kiei, drinking sake and brooding about?

That was exactly what Takamori Saigo thought as he slid into the empty seat across from the mysterious figure.

"Oyasumi!" he sighed, leaning back in the seat. "And how are you doing tonight, stranger?"

"Takamori." The man uttered, his voice low and rough.

Saigo stared, then laughed. "My reputation precedes me!"

"No. I know everything." The man muttered in a voice barely above a whisper. "Everything."

Saigo's smile vanished and his lips twisted into an almost sleazy grin.

"Then, my good man, you must be my contact." He theorized. "Are you?"

The man nodded, eyes blank and expressionless.

"Well then, let's get down to business." Saigo smiled, hand already reaching for his pocket, and for the little black envelope concealed within.

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"Ken-chan…"

The voice. 'I know that voice…'

"Ken-chan…"

Panicking. Panicking! 'But she's dead!'

"Ken-chan…onegai…listen…"

No. No. I saw. Saw her die. 'You're-dead…' She's gone. I killed her. I killed her.

"Kenshin-chan…why?"

No. No. I don't know. Don't know. 'I KILLED YOU!!!'

Scream. Flinch at her touch. Scream.

Why? Why? Why?

I don't know. Don't know. Can't answer. Accident. No. Lies. I know. But I can't.

No.

No.

No…

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Kenshin woke, gasping for air and clutching at his head. He let his arms fall, breathing heavily, body drenched in cold sweat.

"Tomoe…" he whispered.

His breathing slowed and he slowly relaxed again. Kenshin untangled himself from the sheets of his futon, sitting up straight in his bed.

'I thought I was over her…' he thought desperately. 'Why…?'

The young rurouni stood up, heart uneasy. He took his sakabatou and stood up, sliding the door aside and stepping out into the open hall of the Sasaki Dojo.

He leaned against one of the supports, watching the moon in the star-studded sky. There was much to think about tonight.

'I thought I cast off my old hitokiri ways…' he thought. 'I never thought about the memories that remain.'

He thought at his post for a few minutes, unable to come up with a course of action. He moaned, sliding down to sit at the base of his column, leaning his head on his hand.

'What's the matter with me?' he griped. 'Can't think…'

"Aah…Kenshin-san?"

Kenshin's sword hand instinctively reached for the grip of his sakabatou, face assuming his battle expression, teeth clenching, whirling around to face his opponent, who turned out to be…

"Midori-dono?"

The young girl was standing in the doorway of her room farther down the hall, staring at Kenshin and the sword he held in his hand. She backed away a bit, hand reaching for her own sword, eyes doe-like and scared.

"G-gomen, Midori-dono, I didn't mean to scare you." Kenshin apologized, battle expression fading into one of worry. He'd just threatened Midori-dono. He'd almost reverted to Battousai.

He sheathed his sakabatou and bit his lip, watching the girl's reaction.

Midori put her own sword back on the shelf in her room, then turned back out the door and watched Kenshin. Time passed, and an eon happened in a minute as they read each other, watching the tide of emotion visible in one another's eyes.

"Kenshin-kun…"

The frightened, ashamed boy thought frantically as Midori spoke. 'Will they evict me? Or worse yet, will they turn me out and keep my belongings?' Kenshin worried, fear lacing at his heart.

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from Midori, hoping to delay the inevitable.

Instead, he felt the slight brush of Midori's fingers on his, and heard her light whisper in the night.

"I know you have secrets, Ken-kun." She breathed. Kenshin could just imagine the clever, crafty grin on her face. "I know you're not just a traveling swordsman."

Kenshin's eyes opened in surprise. Did she…know?

"I did a bit of looking on my own." She continued. "And guess what?"

Kenshin's heart rate sped up. He choked out a tight, terrified "What?"

"I met a few people who say you went to a certain inn on the west side of town." She turned around and looked Kenshin straight in the eye. "And I also happen to know that you met a few Ishinshishi officials there."

Kenshin's throat was tight. He opened his mouth to speak, every word feeling like molasses on his tongue. "I don't know what…what you're talking about."

"And," Midori continued, "I also learned that you were around the Kiei Tavern that night." Her gaze bore into his head. "The night of May 22. The night two units of the Shinsengumi were killed by a band of Ishinshishi hitokiri."

She leaned closer to him, whispering in his ear. Kenshin could feel her breath on his cheek. His heart soared.

"You're a puzzling one, Ken-kun. I can't figure you out." She whispered. "But I like you. I like puzzling things. And you know what? I think you're special."

She closed her fingers over his wrist, turning it over and placing her hand on his.

"You're the most exciting thing I've come across in a long time, Ken-kun. So I won't tell Satsuya-neechan. You have my word."

She let go of Kenshin's wrist, turned around, winked at the still shocked boy, and disappeared to her room.

Kenshin blinked a few times, still trying to process this new information. His brain started working again as he backed into the support behind him and slumped down, eyes still doe-like.

'That…was…all too familiar…'

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The next morning, Kenshin woke to the acrid smell of burning wood. He jumped up, sakabatou in hand, and heard a soft giggle in the courtyard.

Midori poked her head into his room, grinning. "Ohayo, Ken-kun! Did you sleep well?"

"Hai." Kenshin replied, eyes falling on the flames in the middle of the yard. "Eh…Midori-dono…what are you doing?"

The flames were burning in front of a memorial tablet, with a picture of a stern-looking man with graying hair beside it. Midori was humming a strangely mournful tune and tossing yellow paper into the fire.

"Paying reverence to my uncle." She sang, tossing the last paper into the flames. She straightened up and put her hands together, praying for a brief moment. Then she took a bowl of tomatoes and placed them in front of the fire.

Kenshin felt like laughing out loud. Tomatoes! Paying reverence to a relative with tomatoes.

"Sa-sa-wa-ki-tooo…mo-ru-ko-bi-naaa…" Satsuya came into the yard, carrying another bowl of tomatoes. He grinned at Kenshin in greeting, then continued chanting and approaching the memorial tablet with his tomatoes.

As much as Kenshin tried, he could not suppress his grin.

"Ah! Satsuya-neechan! Arigato, now I can rest." Midori bowed at the tablet and stepped away, pulling off the rag over her hair. She grabbed Kenshin by the sleeve and led him inside the dojo.

They entered Midori's room and the girl let go of Kenshin's sleeve. She smiled at him and started combing her hair as Kenshin sat down.

"I suppose you want to know about our uncle." Midori said, tugging a vicious tangle out.

"Hai." Kenshin looked up at her, a question in his eyes. "Why does Midori-dono rise so early to revere an uncle?"

Midori set her brush down and sighed. She looked down at her clenched hands and opened her mouth to begin.

"Satsuya-neechan and I grew up orphans." She recounted. "We were at the Koishikawa orphanage on the southern side of town."

Her eyes got a misty look and she was sucked into the past, recalling forgotten memories.

"The only thing I remember from that orphanage is the cruel manager. We called him Satoma-sama, I remember. He had a big, ugly, black wart on his nose, and he would always have a sneer on his ugly face." Midori's face broke out into a grin. "Many a time did Satsuya-neechan and I play a joke on him…"

For what felt like hours Kenshin listened to Midori recount the tales of her past. At first, they were merely trifles, ignorant little acts that brought mere smiles to his face. But as Midori got caught up in her storytelling, they became memories, almost his own. He gasped with Midori when she caught Satsuya and another orphan girl kissing in the girl's bathroom. He laughed with her when Satoma-sama picked his nose all through the lesson, only to turn around and see the superintendent at the door.

When she was done, and her tales were told, Kenshin found himself oddly wanting, as if he was missing something. But how could he be missing something he'd never had?

Midori was still laughing at her latest tale, of the feather duster that scared the pants off one of the maids (literally), and did not notice Kenshin's lack of laughter until her own had subsided.

"What's wrong?" she asked, childish grin spreading across her face.

"Iie, nothing is wrong." He smiled back at her. "It's just…you seem…different from when I was bandaging your arm yesterday." His face grew serious. "And how is your arm?"

He leaned forward, and despite Midori's protest, unwrapped the bandage around the wound. It was healing nicely, and the bandage had even been changed.

"Did Satsuya-kun do that for you?"

Midori grinned. "Hai. We Sasaki children are not all runny-nosed brats without a clue. Satsuya served as a messenger during the Bakumatsu."

Kenshin went very still.

"What side was he on?" he asked softly, surprised he could get the words out at all.

Midori gave him a quizzical look. "The rebels, of course. That's why we're still alive." She laughed airily. "The Hitokiri Battousai would have slain us long ago if we were on the Shinsengumi's side." Her eyebrows arched. "But then again, Ken-kun, you probably know that."

Kenshin could do nothing but nod dumbly. His mind raced. She was figuring him out…

Well, Hiko-sama had always said that he was a great liar, especially when river duties came up. So it was time to test his talent.

"My parents were killed by the Shinsengumi in an attack when I was twelve." He said evenly, surprised by his skill. "A friend of theirs took me in. Taught me ken-jutsu. Then, when I was old enough, signed me up for the rebels."

Midori smiled. Her smile said, 'There's it, you've been found out, now tell me all the juicy little details.'

"What did you do for them?" she asked craftily.

Kenshin forced a shrug. "Nothing much. Like your brother, I was just a messenger. Occasionally I got to assist a few people on their assignments, but I was always ordered away before I could…kill."

Midori's expression was clearly one of disappointment. But she could be faking, Battousai-Kenshin said. She could probably know.

Sometimes Battousai was smart.

"That's it, huh?" she asked, feigning nonchalance. "OK, then, I didn't miss anything. I would've just been a messenger if women were allowed to join."

She was clearly trying to goad him into letting something slip. But even though he liked the Sasakis, he couldn't risk it. He didn't trust them just yet.

Kenshin's mouth opened, ready to apologize-his pitying smile was already in place-when suddenly the sliding door behind him burst open in an explosion of wood splinters and broken timber, and through Midori's screams he could hear Satsuya yelling.

"SHINSENGUMI!!!"

---------END OF CHAPTER---------

A/N: Well, I just gave you a cliffie. - Have fun with it…

So. Kenshin is warming up to Midori, mainly because she reminds him of the sister that will never be. She caught him at a vulnerable moment, right after his very tormented dream about Tomoe, and as a result he trusts her a little more.

The quip about the honoring of the uncle and the Sasaki history was just to shed some light on the eccentricity of the Sasaki orphans…they're kind of the major characters in Kenshin's life at the moment, at least they're going to be.

Thank you for reading The Rurouni Years! -

-Misao7


	4. Chapter 4 The Battousai Effect

The Rurouni Years

Chapter 4- The Battousai Effect

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Kenshin's blood ran cold. Shinsengumi? No, it couldn't be…

He cleared his vision through the smoke and wood fragments and groped his way to Midori's shaking form, shielding her with his body. Gripping his sword tightly, he unsheathed the unfamiliar-feeling sakabatou and held it up.

'No good…' he thought. 'I haven't even used it yet!'

But he had to try.

Satsuya stumbled into the room, fanning away the smoke with the fan he'd been using to stoke the fire. His face was contorted in rage.

"Kenshin-kun!" he yelled. "Shinsengumi! They're tearing apart the dojo! You have to help us!"

Midori got up from behind Kenshin, eyes fearful, but she found her sword from her rack and unsheathed it, ready to defend the dojo. Kenshin felt a surge of pride in little Midori-dono, somehow able to overcome her fear and fight…

The trio dashed out of the wrecked room, swords held ready, Kenshin still uncomfortable with the sakaba. He finally resigned his fate and flipped the blade, much more comfortable that way. It was still awkward, not at all like his thin katanas that were back at Shakku Arai's house, but he couldn't do a thing.

They arrived at the main courtyard, which was in shambles, spurred on by the gleeful yells emerging from the vicinity. There were five men dressed in what were unmistakably Shinsengumi uniform. How many times had he seen those clothes? How many times had he stained them with blood?

Kenshin cleared his head and stared at the men. He had never seen them before, which was almost impossible-the Shinsengumi had considered him a primary threat and had sent everyone they could against him. He was sure that in the course of the Bakumatsu, he had fought every Shinsen there was. Why didn't he recognize these?

There was no time to ponder the matter. The men were attacking, each emitting very un-Shinsengumi-like battle yells. Two of them set upon Kenshin, who was very ready.

"Rurouni now, Himura, rurouni." He said to himself, dashing to the left and throwing them off balance. "No casualties."

He flipped the blade and jumped right on the shoulders of one of the men, skyrocketing up with incredible speed. Raising his sword, he gave a battle cry of his own and brought it straight down on the man's right shoulder. He slashed his way through two more of the men, watching as Satsuya and Midori dispatched the last two.

"Hiten-" He caught himself. He had to shield his identity. Turning back to Satsuya and Midori, who were ganging up on the last one, he yelled his instructions, instincts sensing what common sense couldn't. "Satsuya! Midori! Get back, now, and get into the house! There'll be more coming!"

Not a second after the words departed his lips, about ten more men jumped down from the trees surrounding the dojo. Kenshin leapt toward what looked to be the leader of the pack, awkwardly swinging his re-reversed blade on the man's shoulder, attempting to mimic his earlier Ryu-Tsui Sen.

To his surprise, it worked well, if not better. The blunt end must have delivered a harder impact, because this man fell immediately. Slowly, as he worked his way through three of the men, Kenshin got the hang of using the sakaba's heavier connection point in his favor.

The former hitokiri slowly but surely adapted to his new battle style. All he had to do was be careful to use his sakaba as a blunt-force weapon rather than a slicing one. It was a tactic that he had been taught by Hiko-sama never, ever, in all his years of fighting, to use, but then again, Hiko-sama had never taught him to fight with a sakaba.

He spun into a neat left-and-right reversal, placing heavy blows on both sides of the man's juncture between neck and shoulders. As he spun around to meet the next one, a scream of pain shot through the air, turning Kenshin's head and causing the blow that landed on his shoulder.

"Kuso!" Kenshin flipped over and slammed his sakaba onto the offending man's stomach, giving a grunt of triumph as the man keeled over. He looked back towards the front of the house where Midori and Satsuya were, to be truthful, getting their butts kicked. Satsuya was up and fighting, but he sported a series of heavy bruises and seemed to be cursing everything, and as for Midori…

Kenshin finished with his five men and ran back toward the main tangle of bodies as Satsuya sent a man flying into the courtyard wall with a powerful punch to the stomach, having lost both his swords. Midori was on the ground, clutching her bloodied side and valiantly tried to defend against the two men double-teaming her, but she was hopelessly lost against the two very good swordsmen.

"You two fight dirty!" Kenshin furiously pounded the first man's midsection with a series of blunt-force blows, kicking the other away in the process. He bent down to where Midori was whimpering in pain, the beginnings of tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

Gently, he pulled her hand away, examining the wound. "What happened, Midori-dono?"

Teeth clenched, the wounded teenager eked out a few words. "Double-teamed me…dirty cowards…one snuck up behind me…" She winced as Kenshin gently lifted the torn material of her shirt off her stomach, examining the wound. "Hey! Hentai!"

Kenshin was too battle-focused to blush. He expertly tore the bottom of her thin shirt off and tied the wound, taking care to be gentle. "Get into the house. By the looks of it, you can't walk very far with that. Don't try to come out again. Satsuya-kun and I will take care of it."

Midori glared furiously, mouth opening and closing in astonishment. "You can't expect me to-"

"GO!"

The obstinate teenager reluctantly complied, stalking back into the damaged dojo. Kenshin whipped around in time to catch a man trying to attack him, brain working furiously-These weren't Shinsengumi. Shinsengumi did not resort to such desperate measures as double-teaming a girl. They were a relentless group of swordsmen, yes, but the Shinsen were honorable.

He and Satsuya worked their way through the last of the wave of attackers, leaving just one in the end to interrogate. The fighter was long-haired and shaking, seemingly suddenly aware that he was going to die.

Satsuya's eyes were merciless. "Let's just kill him." He said, picking up his swords from the ground. "The little-the little _mercenary,_" he spat.

Kenshin shook his head. "No. We question him, ask him who sent him and his men. This is the wiser thing to do. Only if he does not comply do we…" The ex-assassin flipped his blade. "…kill him."

Satsuya sighed. "Fine. I'll go help Mi-chan. You ask him, and don't kill him before I can." The teenager disappeared inside.

The eyes that followed Satsuya on his walk back to the dojo were Kenshin's. The eyes that looked back at the prisoner were Battousai's. The hapless man gasped and quaked more under his merciless gaze, ten times more chilling than Satsuya's.

Battousai held the blade to the man's neck. "Who sent you?" His voice sent shivers down the prisoner's spine.

"I-I don't know—"

The blade pressed harder, just barely puncturing the skin.

"I don't! All I got from Mashima-sama was this!" He delved into his gi and pulled out-

"A black envelope." Battousai's voice shook, if only just a little. "Give it to me." He held out his hand, snatching the envelope from the man's shaking fingers. The stare returned, piercing deep into the mercenary's soul.

Battousai's voice was a deadly whisper. The man had no problem hearing it. "If you have just told me a lie, I will hunt you down and kill your family, leaving your eldest son's head spiked onto your door." They were words that Kogoro-sama had taught him to use to intimidate. "Then I will find you and torture you with needles and nails. You will not live to revoke your lies."

The man finally broke down and sobbed, a pitiful, moaning wail. "It was a man who met Mashima-sama at the Kiei Tavern yesterday! I was there, we were all there, we're supposed to be Mashima-sama's yojimbo—please, please, don't kill me, I'm telling the truth!"

Battousai's gaze revealed no pity. "And what did this man look like?"

"He was-he was-well, I don't know!" The man wailed. "All I know is his last name, Takamori or whatever-"

Kenshin's eyes widened. "Takamori Saigo."

The man looked up, chin wobbling. "What was that?"

"N-Nothing." Kenshin's eyes settled back into their hitokiri position. "Thank you for telling me. I will not kill your family. Rest in peace."

It was a tactic he had been taught many times. He had seen it happen so many times that he could predict the angle at which the blood would spurt. But it was still painful to watch it happen. Every time, he saw snow falling gently in the distance, and his nose filled with the scent of white plum…

'I swore not to kill again. I swore it, on her name. But I can't undo what years of pain did. I can't stop being a hitokiri, just like that.'

He was careful not to leave blood on the Sasaki dojo's courtyard tiles, choosing instead to leave the dead man on the body of two others. Just like Kogoro had taught him.

'After all she taught me, after all I told myself I would do…I guess this is what happens. I'm sorry…I can't be vigilant enough to stop myself-'

His throat choked.

'To stop myself like you.'

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Spring, 1868. The Boshin War is over. The Bakumatsu has ended, and so closes a chapter in Japan's history. The book closes on the lives of hundreds of noble boys, changed by war into men, who until their dying day lived in the scent of blood, and died in it.

Himura Kenshin is simply one of the boys.

The difference is, he can repent.

Will he be strong enough to?

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owari

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A/N: Well. That took a bloody long time to write. - It turned out good, though. This is meant to be a turning point in the transformation of hitokiri to rurouni. With the return of Kenshin's murderous, chillingly methodical instinct and his failure to become a rurouni…well, this is the step-back part of his transformation.

Aside from that inner-conflict deal, we have some interesting things going on…Takamori Saigo ordered a strike on Kenshin. My mistake-at this point, historically, Takasugi Shinsaku is three years dead. - So Saigo is the traitor-or is he? With Misao7 at the helm, you just can't be sure. -

Please go back and reread the other chapters. I will be offering some analysis on how my brain happened to be working on my characters at the end of each chapter. Happy Holidays, and thanks again for reading The Rurouni Years.

-Misao7


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